War
by TheHttydRaven
Summary: In peacetime, the ruler grows their hair long. In war, they cut it short. Anduin reaches a breaking point. He cuts his hair.


I found this prompt somewhere. Where? I don't know. If I find it I'll let y'all know. Pretty sure it was Reddit but that's all I got.

In peacetime, the ruler grows their hair long. In war, they cut it short.

We're gonna pretend that Anduin has a lot longer hair then what we see in cinematics/gameplay.

Honestly, you can skip the italicized bit if you want, it's just a little story I came up with.

《◇》

Anduin stood in his bedroom, dressed in a simple tunic, soft leggings, and an Alliance tabard. His armor was laid out upon his bed, but he would delay putting on the heavy armor until the last second.

As Anduin took a seat at his desk, sweeping the many papers and miscellaneous items upon it to the side, he took the moment of peace and quiet - which was rare for the young king to find nowadays - to look into the mirror that hung upon the wall above his desk.

His face stared back, his blue eyes dulled with the bone-deep exhaustion that weeks of war and Alliance casualties caused, cheekbones sharply jutting out over his pale and thinning skin, the result of the king skipping meals, too lost in his papers or discussions to be bothered to sit down and have a full meal.

And his hair. A small section of strands hung down on either side of his face, the rest of his golden-blond hair tied up into a ponytail, the same hairstyle his father had worn.

Anduin reached up, pulling out the tie he had used to tie up his hair, the previously restrained strands spilling down to rest against his back, falling to around his hips.

As Anduin sat back against his chair, deep in thought, an old bedtime tale Aunt Jania had told him as a young child popped into the front of his mind.

_"Aunt Jania?"_

_"Yes, Anduin?_

_Can you tell me a story, please?_

_"Alright, but just one! It is almost time for you to sleep, my Prince. How about... the story of the violent warlord and the peaceful sorceress?"_

_"You haven't told this one! What is it about?"_

_"I guess you'll just have to listen and see... unless you're too tired and want to go to bed now?"_

_"No Aunt Jania! I'll be quiet and listen!"_

_"Oh, alright Anduin..."_

_"Once upon a time there was a fearsome warlord. He rampaged across the lands, killing rulers, taking kingdoms and tormenting innocent villages and people as he went. All people fell to his control, helpless to stop his rampage due to fear of their loved ones being hurt. But one day, the warlord decided he wanted to have a sorceress under his control, so his battles would be even easier. So a sorceress he sought out."_

_"But you see, back then, during peacetime, the rulers would grow their hair long. During their wars, they would cut it short. A ruler with long hair is held in great esteem, for they were seen as defending the peace of the land. Now, the traditional declaration of war was for a ruler to send their cut-off hair to the opposing ruler. The statement carries greater weight the longer the hair: to receive long hair says that you have incurred a wrath mot easily woken."_

_"Now this warlord had engaged in many fights. So to this sorceress, who was the ruler of a group of druids, he sent the longest section of his hair he could, but it barely measured an inch, due to his constant announcements of war. The messenger he sent delivered the hair, along with an offer, 'Join us, or die.'."_

_"But when the messenger made to leave the camp, a child ran at him. In fear of what the druid child might do, the messenger took his sword and slew the innocent child with a single move, before fleeing, leaving her shocked and grieving family to collapse at the child's side."_

_"After a few days of waiting for a response, the warlord was preparing to march to the druids camp, and slay them, as he assumed their leader was refusing his offer. But just as he moved to mount his steed and ride into battle, a single druid messenger approached his camp."_

_"The druid carried a single crate upon their back, simply presenting it before the warlord, announcing that it was from the sorceress, before using their magic to portal themselves away."_

_"When the warlord opened the box, it was filled to the brim with hair. When he took a single strand out of the box and instructed two soldiers to hold the opposite ends and walk until it had been pulled straight, the single hair strand stretched across the entire camp, longer than the length of twenty horses standing nose to tail in a line."_

_"You see, this sorcerer was immortal. She had lived for eons, and her people had been threatened with war countless times. Yet she remained peaceful and simply talked her enemies out of attacking, as such her hair grew and grew, growing to such lengths due to her incredible patience and strength."_

_"But this warlord, the attacking and subsequent death of an innocent and harmless druid child, they had been the stick that broke the camel's back. He had hurt so many and showed no sign of slowing in his campaign for power. So this sorceress decided it was time to put an end to him."_

_"Even with the warlord's countless soldiers and bodyguards, the sorceress simply walked into their camp, and slew him with a snap of her fingers. But he - and the messenger- were the only ones that she killed. The sorceress returned to her lands and was never heard from again. The land returned to normal, rulers rising to fill the holes the warlord had left, kingdoms reforming and separating from the rule of the warlord to be as they once were. All due to the work of the sorceress."_

_"Is that why you have long hair, Aunt Jania?"_

_"Oh, dear Anduin..."_

_"Is that why my father has long hair?"_

_"Your father... tries his best to keep the peace. But peace is difficult, Anduin. Sometimes there is no other option than war."_

_"When I'm king, I'm going to have hair like the sorceress! It's going to be so long because I'll be the best at keeping the peace! I'll never cut it!"_

_"Of course, Anduin. Now, it's time for bed. Do you need anything else?"_

_"No, thank you, Aunt Jania. Goodnight."_

_"Goodnight."_

Anduin stared at his reflection for a moment, a single gloved finger reaching up to twirl a strand of golden hair around it, the rough material of his glove catching on the strands and pulling a few free, the long strands gently falling through the air to rest upon the young king's lap.

Before Anduin knew what he was doing, his hands were moving, almost as if they had a mind of their own, gathering his long hair into a ponytail and tying it before reaching for the sharpened knife that lay in its case upon his desk.

Before Anduin could give himself a chance to reconsider his actions, he quickly sawed through the ponytail, the long section of hair coming away in his hand.

As Anduin had cut above the tie, the long tail of hair was held together.

Reverently lying the long hairs across his desk, Anduin turned his attention to fixing the jagged and uneven mess that was the hairstyle he currently had.

After carefully cutting off a few more small sections of hair, Anduin had ended up with a short hairstyle that he decided he was happy with.

"King Anduin!" A knock upon his door, accompanied by a loud voice, occupied his attention. "The troops leave shortly. You are expected at the docks."

Anduin called back a confirmation, before hurrying to his armor, putting it on piece by piece, before finally holding the helmet in his hands, examining his reflection in the shiny metal.

Anduin's eyes narrowed, before raising the helmet and settling it onto his head.

《◇》

"Sylvanas!"

Anduin's voice, slightly muffled by the lions helm he wore, strongly rang out over the battlefield, his soldiers and opposing combatants falling quiet as the Alliance leader, atop his white steed, moved up to where Sylvanas was standing, the Hordes warchief holding up a hand to still her own soldiers as Anduin drew close to her.

"Little Lion. Here to announce your surrender?" Sylvanas smiled coyly up at Anduin, her bow held lightly in a relaxed hand as if this was just an everyday conversation between two friends.

Anduin stared down at her silently, eyes narrowed until he slowly moved, his hand withdrawing a satchel from the saddlebags of his horse, tossing it into the air at her.

Sylvanas tilted her head as she spared Anduin a raised eyebrow, but she motioned for one of her followers to catch the satchel.

Anduin didn't wait for Sylvanas to open the satchel, simply turning his steed and riding away.

"What did you do?" Genn stared up at Anduin, curiosity, and apprehension clear in the worgens glowing eyes.

"Sent a message." Anduin looked back across the battlefield and met eyes with Sylvanas, who held the long golden locks in her hands, surprise clear in her red eyes.

Anduin pulled Shalamayne from her sheath and charged.

"For the Alliance!"

Anduin has tried his best for peace.

He had turned to the only other option available.

To fight back.

And Anduin Wrynn would come down on the Horde with the fury of a thousand lions.


End file.
